Funny AF Woman #15

Amanda Jaffe

Amanda and I were trying to remember how we met. Amanda thought I may have been the first person to comment on her Cougar Alley post who wasn’t either a relative or writing coach. Hehe. No matter. I quickly became a fan. She has a comedic style that sneaks up on you. Her dry wit is effortless and hilarious. I hope you’ll subscribe to her Substack.

Without further ado, or undo, here’s Amanda…

1. Did your parents encourage your funny side?

   I suspect my parents didn’t have a grand plan to encourage my funny side, but it certainly worked out that way. They loved a good laugh (my mom still does), and they loved their TV. I grew up on funny TV in the best possible time (because it was my time) – the 70s. In the evenings, we’d all squeeze onto the couch and watch shows like The Mary Tyler Moore Show, The Bob Newhart Show, MASH, and The Carol Burnett Show. Unless it was a school night, I don’t remember anyone telling me to turn off the TV, ever. (Please don’t mention this to my kids. When they were little, they had no idea they could still work the TV if I hid the remote.)

2. How did you nurture your funny side?

   I’m not sure I ever really thought of it as nurturing so much as gravitating toward humor to balance my serious, angsty side. Staying up until 1am to watch Saturday Night Live was my Big Rebellious Act for much of my teens (I was a late bloomer). I loved listening to comedy albums (yes, actual albums – Steve Martin and George Carlin were favorites) and watching movies (anything by Mel Brooks and, eventually, Nora Ephron’s fabulous rom-coms). Today, I nurture my funny side with funny writers – especially Nora Ephron, from her early essays to her later work. It’s amazing to see her coming back to themes, peeves, and jokes over the arc of her writing career – it’s like attending Humor University.

3. Did being funny ever get in the way of a close relationship?

   Not that I know of, but now I’m thinking it might be a good idea to reexamine my failed close relationships.

4. If you’re in a partnership, is he or she funny? Was/Is humor a requirement?

   Don’t tell my husband, but I think he’s funny. In fact, if you ever start a Funny AF Husbands, give him a call, although he’d probably make me ghostwrite his material. (He’s a talker, I’m a writer.) Humor, whether it’s the laugh-out-loud type, a complicit smile over an inside joke, or finding the funny in a serious situation, fuels our fire. Which is a good thing, since my husband also loves to chew ice, and I have a major aversion to the sound of ice being chewed. In those unbelievably long stretches when he does this, I remind myself that the ice-chewing monster sitting beside me makes me laugh the other 98.3% of the time. I have to remind myself loudly, but it works.

5. If you have a funny partner is there ever a joke competition or do you play well off each other?

   My husband and I CONSTANTLY play off each other, and we play a long game. For the three years we lived in California, every time we drove past a Carl’s Jr. (a fast-food chain out west), he’d ask me if I ever ate at a Carl’s Jr. Trust me, it only got funnier with time. (The answer, by the way, is no. I find Carl’s Jr. far too grammatically challenged – I can’t get over the apostrophe placement. Still, one of the saddest things about our recent move to New Jersey is there’s no Carl’s Jr. east of the Mississippi. We’ll have to find another restaurant. I’m accepting suggestions.)

   

   Me and my husband. For the record, neither of us has ever eaten at a Carl’s Jr.

6. Did being a jokester ever get in the way of school or work?

   Sadly, no. I was way too Type A to let anything, except my kids, get in the way of school or work. I spent thirty years as a lawyer, most of them specializing in pension law. (I do know one really funny pension joke about a couple of actuaries who go hunting, but you’d have to be a pension lawyer or an actuary to get it.) Like a lot of lawyers, I grew up wanting to be a writer. It took me thirty years to get there and a few more to lean into my humorous side, but I’m here now, and I’m having a blast. I spent thirty years working with words, and now I get to play with them.

7. Was anyone ever threatened by your humor?

   Not that I know of, and I hope not! Then again, see above, re: whether humor ever got in the way of a close relationship….

8. Can you tell me about a time when you couldn’t muster anything funny and how it affected you? How did you rebound from the unfunny funk?

   There was nothing funny about the day we moved out of our house in California this August. It was a tale of woe, heaped upon a tragedy, with a dusting of despair. We’d planned to store almost everything we owned in two portable storage pods in California, then tow a trailer filled with “essentials” cross-country to New Jersey. It took our movers well over an hour to pack the trailer – and as soon as they finished, it was painfully obvious our plan to tow a trailerful of “essentials” cross-country was The Worst Idea Ever. After nine hours of packing, unpacking, and repacking, our movers had made a killing in overtime, my husband and I were ready to bubblewrap each other (not in a good way), and the trailer rental company had put us on their “Do Not Rent Again – Ever” list. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and never come out.

   But the next morning, I stopped by to say goodbye to Heather, my hairstylist, and started telling her what had happened. And as I did, it became a story, and as it became a story, it became my story – and a funny one. It was a great example of Nora Ephron’s famous quote: “When you slip on a banana peel, people laugh at you. But when you tell people you slipped on a banana peel, it's your laugh.”

9. Can you describe the type of humor you possess? Clever Wit, quick-with-a-joke, physical, goofball, aggressive, self-enhancing, self-deprecating, dark, observational, or one I didn’t think of?  What’s an example of how you might respond using that humor in a given situation?

   If we’re kibbitzing over coffee or a glass of wine, it’s clever wit/quick-with-joke, with a dash of self-deprecating. If I’m writing, it tends to be observational, with a narrative arc to it. I love humor that tells a story, and that’s the kind of humor I love to write.

10. Did your kid(s) inherit your comedy skill?

    I think both kids inherited my funny side, but they’ve each got a strong serious side too, also inherited. If you ask my kids this question, by the way, they’ll probably deny they inherited their mom’s humor chops, because that would require them to acknowledge I’m funny. (If you happen to ask them and they do say “yes,” would you mind recording it for me?)

11. Did your sense of humor change in the last 5 years?

    Everything about me changed in the last five years. Actually, I don’t think my sense of humor changed so much as my perspective on humor. I used to think serious situations required serious responses – but when’s the last time you felt better about a serious situation by adding more seriousness to it? I’m still a serious person, but over the last five years, my sense of humor has become more rooted in a sense of curiosity, wonder, and joy, as I have more time to pay attention – which means I find humor in more places, in more situations. You know that point in a musical where the main character becomes so filled with emotion that he or she has no choice but to sing? That’s me now – except I’m writing (trust me, you don’t want me to sing), trying to send a little levity and perspective out into the world.

12. Was your humor ever mean?

    It’s entirely possible I told someone their epidermis was showing when I was nine or ten. If I did, I’m sorry (no joke). But as a total geek/nerd who sometimes found herself on the receiving end, dishing out mean humor wasn’t my style.

13. What would be the title of your life right now?

    I’d have to go with the title of my Substack, Age of Enlightenment. That’s me – several years past the initial shock of an empty nest, pausing to wonder at the world, ask some questions, and have a laugh or two along the way. Trying to figure things out – one thing at a time – and writing my way through it.

14. Who is your role model? If you could say anything to this person, what would it be?

    Nora Ephron, no question. If I could say anything to her, I’d say “Thank you.” And “Could we have lunch?” I really wish I could say those things to her. In my wildest dreams, she’d smile, roll her eyes, and say, “Are you kidding? Of course!”

In 2018, after years spent practicing law between travel adventures, Amanda Jaffe turned her back on lawyering, took the expat plunge, and moved to Singapore, where she began writing. She returned to the United States in 2020 but remains an expat at heart. Her writing has appeared in a number of places, including PASSAGE Magazine, AWA Magazine, The American Interest, Wanderlust, The Smart Set, The Gravity of the Thing, and The Razor. In 2023, she launched Age of Enlightenment, an award-winning Substack publication of humorous essays, to find new ways to connect with a community of readers. She is currently at work on a collection of essays (sprinkled with humor!) about her time in Singapore and her journey from attorney to author, empty nester to expat. Find her writing at www.amandajaffewrites.com and on Instagram at @amandajaffewrites.

I’m still laughing at the grammar of Carl’s Jr.

Got questions or comments for Amanda? Please post. I’ll start.

1. Singapore has wicked strict social rules and regulations. Did you feel stifled? Did you ever have a piece of gum?

2. Does anyone have any NJ restaurant suggestions for Amanda?